


Assassins Creed

by Allerleirauh



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dark, M/M, Political Assassination, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allerleirauh/pseuds/Allerleirauh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three killers: one past, one present and one reluctant. Ten years after the series finale Bashir, Garak and Kira meet during a conference on Bajor.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassins Creed

DS9 - the name alone brought back a kaleidoscope of memories. Julian stood in front of the large window in Ross' office that overlooked one of the most beautiful parts of Starfleet Headquarters on Earth. Outside lay the well-tended lawns and gardens that surrounded the HQ's buildings. Being called here to San Francisco had been a surprise.

Over the last years he had become something of a skeleton in Starfleet's closet - something to lock away and try to forget. At first he had barely understood what was happening. It had been disillusioning to discover to what extent it had been Sisko's protecting influence that had prevented his career from collapsing since his disgraceful genetic background had become public knowledge with Starfleet.

With Sisko gone however the collapse had set in rapidly. Working as a doctor had proven practically impossible. No one had wanted him. He was a freak. The fact that it had never been his own decision that made him what he was didn't matter at all. The looming shadow of the Eugenic wars hung over him like a spectre over his shoulder.

At first he had changed professions and had joined Starfleet Intelligence. He had reasoned that it was only a logical choice. Fortunately people there weren't as picky about whom they worked with. It didn't take long however until something else had made a reappearance in his life: Section 31, the disreputable doppelganger of Starfleet Intelligence - even if it wasn't called that nowadays. Section 31 had become Special Operations, though the new name was just that, a name to be slapped onto the same rotten organization.

But his erstwhile indignation about their lack of ethics and questionable morale was as much a thing of the past as his former career. Looking at Starfleet he now knew both sides of the medal, and it wasn't the nice and shiny side that had been handed to him lately but the tainted one on which the blood-stains had just been hastily rubbed off. Or as his boss at SO had later put it: "If you want your frontyard to be nice and orderly, someone has to take care of the filth and dirt in the backyard. That's our job, and it's even more important than all the rest, just not as glorious, but glory's something for brain-deads like the admiralty, right?"

They had shared a huge laugh, and if there had been the tiniest hint of desperation in Julian's voice, he had been sure that it was imperceptible for anyone but himself.

It had been a slow erosion of everything he once held dear that had finally pushed him over the brink and into accepting a new life with Special Operations. They offered him the chance to break free from the role of victim he had more and more found himself cast into. They had showed him the ways and means to take control of his life once again. If that life was based on lies and defied every value Starfleet stood for, by then that was perfectly fine with him. Finally he was comfortable to live in the shadows - he didn't care, and his former life seemed very far away, almost like a dream.

The admiral's voice brought him back to the present.

"Do you see a problem there?" Ross asked. "The ambassador has to be taken out. His work is a serious threat to the Federation. If there were any other way," he paused, "but there isn't really."

Slowly Julian shook his head. "No problem. It won't be easy though. He's always been a suspicious bastard - has taken a lot of pride in teasing me about not trusting anyone."

Ross said, "Yet I understand that your past relationship was special enough to give you an access to him that anyone else lacks."

"You mean by letting him fuck me?"

The coarse words sounded wrong in this setting, but he had chosen them precisely for that reason. Looking at the clean and proper Starfleet bureau, where every well-placed piece of furniture screamed the easy superiority of its inhabitant at him, was grating on his nerves. It was a sharp reminder of what he once had if only for a couple of short years on DS9 before it had been wrenched away from him - before he had been deemed unworthy of this life.

Ross shook his head. He gave Julian a look full of grudging amusement. "From what I understand it was more of an amour fou, romantic and quite hopeless of course, but I distinctly remember hearing quite a few of sighs and seeing more than a few dreamy looks when talks turned to you and your thorny liaison back on DS9."

Julian gave a rude snort and rolled his eyes. He went over to one of the visitor's chairs in front of the admiral's large desk and dropped into it. He slouched down, and giving the admiral a look over his shoulder that was meant to be both casual and as insolent as possible he said, "Oh please Bill, I thought you had a job for me. I'm really not in the mood for harlequin fantasies."

Ross froze and his expression clearly showed how much he wanted to put his foot down on Julian's disrespectful behaviour. He hesitated though, and Julian thought he could guess the reason. Ross needed him. He needed him and his unique access to the Cardassian ambassador badly enough to make him swallow Julian's rudeness.

 _This is going to be fun_ , he thought and slouched down even further in his chair giving the admiral another malicious grin.

***

Kira woke up slowly. It wasn't the normal alarm but a long range communication coming in, and a very special one.

She almost raced out of bed, and flinging a robe around her naked shoulders she sat down at her desk. Opening the channel she waited impatiently for the transmission to come through.

When Odo's face appeared on the screen she nodded at him. Their contacts had stayed regular but rare over the years since he had rejoined his people. Ten years was a long time, but seeing him still produced the same bitter sweet feeling in the pit of her stomach she had felt the day she saw him finally merge and vanish into the waves of the great link.

"Nerys," he said, his face showing the same warm and slightly wistful smile she knew was mirrored on her own, "you look lovely."

She chuckled. "Charmer - and you look suspiciously unchanged as always."

He slightly bowed his head acknowledging both statements. "And how's planetary security today?" he asked.

"Problematic as always. The 'True Disciples' are still on the rise. Their radical views are continually gathering new followers. It's the usual powder keg, but I'll handle it."

"I'm sure you will," he answered.

Silence fell for a while. Kira waited. Odo wanted something, and he would tell her when he was ready. She used the time to study his face. As she had said it was unchanged - mostly. There were always minimal differences in his appearance. She had learned to read them and to interpret them over the years. Today they told her that Odo was stressed and worried about something

"An order for termination has been issued," he finally said.

She was surprised but didn't interrupt or ask for whom.

"I expect they will use the upcoming sector conference as a stage. It's very likely that they will contact you to acquire your support."

"Who's the target?" she asked.

"Garak."

She sighed. "Who wants him dead _this_ time?"

"Us," he grimaced at his choice of words, corrected himself, "the Dominion - and Starfleet too."

Kira gave a low whistle. She asked, "What do you want?"

"There's a general consensus that Garak needs to be stopped, and _I_ want you to do what needs to be done."

"For old time's sake?" she asked and smiled slightly.

"For the future," he answered and though his expression remained serious, there was an answering smile in his eyes.

***

Bashir's preparations for the conference didn't take long. Ross had already seen to it that he was included in the Federation's delegation. He went under the title of medical advisor and it sounded plausible enough.

He had sent messages both to the ambassador and to Colonel Kira. To the former it had simply read "Especially in uncertain times a reunion of old friends should be held precious. I'll see you at the conference. J."

To Kira he had sent "I'll be joining the Federation's delegation on the upcoming sector conference. Please find the time to meet me before the conference starts. I've matters of some importance to discuss with you. Dr. Julian Bashir"

The trip to Bajor was uneventful, almost boring. The delegation consisted mostly of lower function politicians and specialists, and they spent most of their time in inane chatter about equally ridiculous subjects. They obviously knew who he was because while the political faction mostly ignored him, some of the scientific members actually tried to approach him, asking him about his 'unique' perspective. He had driven them away by giving them lectures about various completely obscure medical subjects that he had created for just this purpose - to get rid of unwanted 'friendlies'. The speeches were as dry as the desert and bored almost everyone to tears within minutes thus preventing any further attempts to befriend him.

He was surprised to see Kira waiting for him when they beamed down to the Federation's Headquarters in Bajor's capital city.

***

Bashir's transmission had startled Kira. She had immediately suspected that his request and Odo's call were connected and the idea filled her heart with dread. She hadn't kept track of Bashir since he had left DS9, but if her suspicions were right something must have happened to him in the last years - something quite unpleasant.

Kira had arranged to be there when the delegation of the Federation's officials arrived. As Head of Planetary Security there weren't many places she couldn't get into if she wanted to, even if she wasn't part of Starfleet. She scanned the rather large group of delegates that had stepped down from the transporter pads in groups of five.

Bashir had been among the last arrivals. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but she was surprised how good he looked. He had kept his lean figure but some of his lankiness was gone. He looked more compact and the way he moved revealed a decidedly more muscled physique.

As he came nearer she saw other differences. There were the first hints of grey in his hair and a couple of new wrinkles on his face. He must have been planetside recently because he had a deep tan. In all he looked in marvellous shape. _But does he look like a killer?_ she wondered.

They made eye contact and she saw a wide smile instantly spread across his face. Quickening his steps he waved at her. He practically rushed up to her. For a split-second she was afraid he would actually hug her. He might have wanted to but obviously thought better of it and tried to hide the faltering motion of his hands by spreading his arms and saying, "Colonel Kira, I hope you don't mind me saying so, you look great! It's such a pleasure to see you again."

Kira kept her hands firmly behind her back, but she smiled in return. She knew what Bashir was seeing: a middle aged woman to whom the years hadn't been as kind as to him. Too many hours behind a desk and a lifestyle that simply asked too much of her had given her features a haggard and careworn look. She had become used to it in the mirror, but others commented from time to time that she really should take a rest soon.

"Flatterer," she chided gently. "It's good to see you too. Welcome to Bajor."

Letting his gaze wander through the large hall he said, "A lot has changed." His gaze lingered on the flag of the UFP. "And congratulations on becoming a full member of the Federation," he said, giving her another brilliant smile before he abruptly turned serious, "Although from what I hear, there is a growing number of Bajorans who rue that decision."

Kira gave him a sharp look. "This isn't the right place, Doctor."

"You're right of course," he answered hastily, looking down with the air of a chastised schoolboy.

For a second an uneasy silence spread between them before Kira broke it by asking, "Why don't we have lunch tomorrow? I'll send my aide to collect you at your quarters at 1200? A private setting might be more conductive to the things you obviously want to discuss," she continued.

"That sounds splendid," he agreed eagerly.

***

Bashir spent the next morning looking at the various locations the conference would be held in. There was the large festival hall that lay directly on the shores of Lake Holana and would host the formal opening ceremony on the next day as well as the opulent gala that would highlight the first evening of the conference. What especially caught his attention was a row of balconies the hall featured on its seaside. _One of these would be perfect_ , he thought.

The conference sessions would start the day after. Those would be held in a large round hall that featured a table-ring in its centre and rows of seats that were arranged in rising circles. The different parties would be placed like spokes of a wheel, with the ambassadors and special envoys sitting at the central table and their entourages filling up the rising seats.

If possible he wanted to strike as early as circumstances permitted. Hopefully the opening ceremony would allow him to ask the ambassador for a moment of privacy at the upcoming gala later in the evening. Should it be granted he'd act swiftly, choosing the event with the largest social gathering and least effective security - at least that was what he hoped. If he was able to get Kira's support things would be far easier of course.

***

At midday he returned to his quarters where he was met by a very young and rather attractive Bajoran who introduced himself as Colonel Kira's aide.

It took them only a couple of minutes to arrive at what must've been one of Bajor's most luxurious restaurants. It occupied the topmost floor of one of the capital's highest buildings and even had a rooftop terrace where customers could enjoy a truly breathtaking view while eating their lunch or dinner.

It was on that terrace and in a separate and private alcove that Kira waited for him.

"There you are," she said good-naturedly, "Come, have a seat."

He laughed and shook his head. Instead of doing as he'd been asked he went to the nearby parapet and took a good look at the really grandiose view of Bajor's capital from above. "If you wanted to impress me, you succeeded." He turned to look at her. Out here in the sun she looked healthier and much more relaxed than yesterday at his arrival. He gave her his best smile. "You sure about the privacy though?" He let his gaze wander demonstratively around the terrace.

She smiled back. "Don't worry. I have an agreement with the owner. We do have complete privacy here. There's a very discreet listening shield installed." Again she made a beckoning gesture. "Come now, don't be shy. Take a seat. I've already ordered, and our lunch should arrive any minute."

Again he laughed, but this time he did as she had asked. He noticed that the table was relatively small, ideal to create a personable atmosphere.

Leaning forward she raised her wine-glass. "Once again: Welcome to Bajor," she said, "and before you ask, yes it is Bajoran Spring-wine."

He followed her example and raised his own glass, saying, "I had hoped you'd say that," he gave the glass' contents a critical look, "It's been always one of my favourites and it's very hard to come by outside of this system. Let me add to your welcome a salute of my own: to the reunion of old friends and colleagues."

They toasted each other and sipped from their glasses. He noticed that just like himself she took only the slightest of swallows. Despite the friendly mood they were both so intent on creating they were both equally cautious.

Their meals were served, and for a while their conversation firmly stayed on safe topics. He enquired about old colleagues and answered a couple of her own questions either vaguely or with false information. He was quite sure that she had no idea about his occupation of the last years and felt safe to give her the full cover.

No, he hadn't been working as a doctor for a while, but yes, Starfleet was keeping him busy. Yes, of course he enjoyed his life wholeheartedly and no, he hadn't heard from Ezri lately, but once again yes, he wished her and her husband all the best.

After the waiter had cleared their table Kira obviously thought that it was time to get down to business. Leaning slightly forward she asked, "So, Doctor, how may I help you?"

It was the blunt approach Kira had always favoured. He remembered it well, way back on DS9. He chuckled and answered, "That depends. Tell me, is the situation on Bajor really so bad? While preparing for the conference I heard rumours that there are those among the political and religious leaders who actually want to secede from the Federation. Is it true?"

Kira sighed and there was a world of frustration prominent in her features. "I'm afraid so. Over the course of the past two years a group of extreme reactionaries has gathered influence in Bajor's political arena. Basically they are religious hardliners and they condemn a Federation that they see as both morally and ethically negligent.

"The most ironic part of it all is that they seem to have found kindred spirits on Cardassia. There exists another radical group that follows at least comparable ideals, though I believe they are even more reactionary than their Bajoran counterparts, and of course they are absolute in their verdict against the Federation. Lately the two groups have started to pool their efforts. It's an alarming trend." She sighed again.

Bashir shook his head as if considering her words. "Yet it seems highly unlikely that two radical groups like these would consider the other as a possible ally - especially considering the violent past that Bajor and Cardassia share."

Kira snorted in response. "They are idiots, Doctor. And of course they are being led in their march towards a world free of exterior corruption."

"Yes, I heard the Cardassian ambassador is playing quite an active role in the movement, though I don't fully understand why," Bashir interjected.

Kira gave him another sharp look. "Garak, the sweet-talking, scheming and lying bastard is doing his best to support both groups in their efforts," Kira grated out. "He wants the Federation out of our sector and he's using every means available to him to reach that goal. Pushing Bajor towards secession definitely would be a big step in that direction," she added.

Bashir leaned back slowly. "Yes, I've heard that as a member of one of the more liberal political factions on Bajor, you've had some rather formidable public debates with him. They've made it as far as the Federation's diplomatic corps on Earth and that isn't a small feat. General consensus among them is that while Garak has a small advantage when it comes to laying verbal traps and general outmanoeuvring, you hold a very definite advantage in personal insults and creative and subtle death threats - always a point best not to be taken lightly when dealing with a Cardassian."

He chuckled and raising his eyebrows he said, "And I always thought the two of you had finally made peace during those last days on Cardassia before the fall of the Dominion." He kept his voice gentle, going for honest curiosity and concern.

"We had a common goal back then," Kira answered, "today I wouldn't shed a tear if he dropped dead in front of me," and there was so much heartfelt contempt in her voice, Bashir was sure she was giving him her honest opinion.

Yet he felt not completely certain in his judgment. Special Operations had told him she would be a safe bet in supporting him, but even Special Operations wasn't infallible in its assessment. He was silently contemplating whether he should risk trusting her, taking her into his confidence when her next words shocked him completely.

"Are you going to rid us of that problem, Julian?" she asked lightly as if enquiring about the weather. She looked at him through lowered eye-lashes, her fingers playing with the stem of her glass, her gaze unblinkingly fixed on his face.

He swallowed slowly, _Showtime_ , he thought. "Sometimes one little problem less makes a big difference," he said cautiously.

She smiled. "I agree wholeheartedly."

***

Less than an hour later Bashir was softly whistling while he took a stroll through the capital's oldest district. Things looked good for him. After startling him half to death, he had decided to take Kira's assent to his objective at face value. The warm weather was a real pleasure, and he had decided to make the best of the remaining day by simply enjoying it. He had decided to allow himself a tour of exploration through the capital's older districts.

The town was beautiful here though he was sure it wouldn't take him long to get behind the facade, to discover the rotten side of it that he had learned to invariably expect. That wasn't his goal however, and so he contented himself to a casual stroll while he contemplated tomorrow's killing. With Kira's support the only unknown factor remained the ambassador himself. He hadn't answered Julian's transmission, but Julian hadn't really expected an answer. It would be paramount however to convince the ambassador to join Julian on one of the festival hall's balconies at the gala, and for that it had been important not to surprise him with Julian's presence - hence the transmission.

If he managed that, Kira had promised to be there and guarantee that they weren't disturbed by anyone else. His move would come lightning fast and deadly. The ambassador - Garak - would never know what hit him.

***

"I've been contacted." Kira said, not wasting any breath with pleasantries this time. "You won't believe it; they've sent Bashir for the task."

Odo actually looked surprised. "I hadn't expected that," he admitted. "I knew that he works for Starfleet Intelligence these days, but I still wouldn't have expected him. I wouldn't have thought he had the guts, though in a way he is the perfect choice, don't you think?"

Kira snorted and replied, "Well, he definitely has the guts. He seems almost eager."

Odo frowned, "You don't have second thoughts, do you? You often told me how much the threat of Bajor's secession from the Federation is bothering you."

"No, not really. I'll do what is needed, I'm just not sure it's the right thing to do," Kira replied.

He smiled at her. "Oh Nerys, we live and we learn, wasn't that something you taught me? That we don't live in an ideal world were right and wrong are precisely defined and standing on opposite ends, easily discernable and easy to choose." He paused for a second. "You'll do as I ask?" he finally said.

"Of course," she answered, just tell me there's a very good reason," and after another pause Odo had answered, "There is, and it's a very simple one. Just listen," and that's what she did.

Her sleep that night was troubled.

***

The day of the opening ceremony dawned with a spectacular sunrise. Yet Bashir had no eyes for it. He was sitting in his small quarters, preparing the poison he had chosen for the evening. It was a multi-component solution and highly exotic in its make-up. It combined two components of the Wista bush, a plant native only to Cardassia Prime with a substance that was based on the secretion of a small amphibian creature that could only be found in the small lightless pockets of a couple of underground caverns on Romulus.

Mix all three carefully and in exactly the right order and amounts and you get a poison especially designed to cause a neuro-toxic shock that would kill in seconds. The particular beauty of it: it was specifically designed to kill Cardassians and of course it had been invented on Cardassia - where else?

He had learned about it by pure chance, and he very much doubted that anyone else outside of a very elite circle knew about it. He expected that would change after the ambassador's death though. He felt confident that it would throw a spotlight on Cardassia itself as the possible instigator of the assassination. On his homeworld the ambassador had a veritable bouquet of enemies to choose from - a considerable number of failed assassination attempts were testimony to that.

***

At midday Kira was watching the mass of people that had gathered for the opening ceremony. Such large groups always made her nervous. It was a trait of her job of course. She had arrived at the festival hall shortly after dawn. A conference of that importance required an almost insane amount of preparation. Apart from the Bajoran and Cardassian delegations there would be the large group of representatives of the Federation and the much smaller group sent by the Dominion. On top of that, envoys of the Romulans and the Klingons had arrived as well as more than a handful of observers, advisors and specialists from other planets. In all there would be more than 150 people attending the opening ceremony.

Having to deal with an announced assassination wasn't a completely new situation for her, but the knowledge that she would most likely play a role in it left her with a feeling of surrealism whenever she thought of it. It went so fundamentally against her official role. She should prevent the crime, not lend a hand in its commitment. In a way it was a sharp reminder of a past she had thought long gone - of her youth when killing someone who interfered with her own and Bajor's goals wasn't an easy choice but nonetheless a choice she had made repeatedly.

So far she hadn't seen either Garak or Bashir. She was watching from high up on one of the raised aisles as the festival hall slowly filled. then she saw Bashir coming in. He looked relaxed as he let his gaze wander up to the aisles. He spotted Kira and gave her a nod. He scanned the gathering crowd as he slowly walked to the hall's centre, every once in a while exchanging a greeting with other attendees.

Kira was just considering leaving her lookout when a familiar voice from behind startled her into almost drawing her weapon. Someone had crept up on her without a sound.

"What a splendid sight, Colonel," Garak said, "And all in the spirit of peaceful cooperation. It warms my heart." His voice dripped with amused irony.

Kira didn't turn, didn't even move a muscle. She had no problem presenting him her back, no problem at all, she told herself. "You and I both know you don't have a heart, Garak," she retorted, "And just in case you hadn't noticed - during the opening ceremony these aisles and the balconies are off limits to the public." Now she turned and gave him a brilliant and completely false smile. "I'm afraid that includes you, Ambassador," she added, now using his title as she was facing him. She made an inviting gesture towards the spiral-staircase that lay slightly to their right. "Why don't you step down and mingle with the rest of the crowd?" she paused then continued with just the right amount of condescension, "Come on, off you go. I'm sure Bashir is getting desperate by now. He was so excited to meet with you again."

Now it was Garak's turn to give her a wide smile. "Ah, so you've already met? How very nice for you," he said. "I'm not sure if I'll find the time, but I'll certainly try." He gave her a courteous bow and slowly walked towards the stairs.

Her gaze followed his figure as he descended step by step and finally vanished around the turn of the stairs. _He's getting old_. She didn't know where that thought had come from. It had simply popped into her mind out of the blue. Maybe it was the slight bend of his shoulders that had brought it about or the grey streaks in his hair that seemed to be more prominent every time she met him these days.

However the fact that he had managed to creep up on her without her noticing belied his looks. She hadn't thought him still capable of such a trick. _So much for advanced age_ , she thought.

She shook her head and with a resigned sigh she picked up her routine scans of the crowd. She would stay up here just for a little while longer.

***

Their first reunion took place shortly after the formal opening ceremony and to Julian's considerable chagrin it wasn't his own initiative that brought it about. First Minister Dolan had given a short speech followed by the Ambassador of the Federation. That should have been the perfect opportunity for Julian to finally locate his target. Beforehand the ambassador had seemed strangely elusive but even he had to follow protocol and take his designated place as the official representative of Cardassia during the ceremony.

Julian had planned to keep track of him afterwards and arrange a chance meeting in time. Therefore it was with great frustration that he realized he had lost the Cardassian again. He sighed as he scanned the crowd in front of him. The damn reptile was nowhere in sight. He turned to do the same with the crowd behind him only to see the object of his search now standing directly in front of him and far too close for his comfort.

"Doctor, what a pleasure to see you," Garak said with a wide smile. To his horror Julian realized that he was absolutely tongue-tied. He stared at the Cardassian and it felt like a floodgate in his mind had been opened. Memories and emotions suddenly assaulted him that he had felt certain he had dealt with and buried years ago. It felt like drowning, and there seemed no way to stop it. It was sadness and nostalgia, a pinch of longing and a lot of anger and resentment all rolled together and inseparably intertwined.

As he didn't respond Garak frowned and took half a step closer, obviously worried. He placed a hand at Julian's elbow and though the gesture was by no means meant as a threat it was enough for Julian to get a grip on himself. Focusing on his anger and relying on his instincts and the rush of adrenaline Garak's touch had incited, he pushed every other emotion firmly to the back of his mind. He put on a delighted expression and slipped into his role.

"Gods, Garak, you almost startled me to death!" he exclaimed, "Where have you been? I've been looking for you for hours," he added. He laughed good-naturedly. Inwardly he couldn't help but congratulate himself how flawlessly he'd switched to being the exuberant, mild-mannered and innocent Bashir of a lifetime ago.

Garak chuckled and replied, "My dear Doctor, that hardly seems likely, but anyway now you've found me."

"Yes, and it's wonderful to see you," Julian said, and he did his best to amp up his doe-eýed expression without going too much over the top, "Though had there been a real choice I would have liked a more private setting for our meeting." They were still standing quite close and Julian softened his voice even further. He leaned in slightly as he said the last words. He knew he was moving very fast, but something in his opposite's demeanour was telling him this rushed approach would work. Something had clicked between them and he was sure the ambassador had swallowed the bait - hook, line and sinker.

Garak gave him a surprised but delighted look and replied, "I see. And who am I to say 'No' to such an intriguing suggestion. I'm sure an opportunity will present itself later. Maybe during the gala?" His face showed a rather ambiguous smirk before he turned serious once again. "Unfortunately right now, I have to attend to the duties my office requires of me. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of keeping you away from them," Bashir replied sympathetically, "I'll see you later at the gala."

Garak's voice was almost as soft as his own as he replied, "I'm looking forward to it, my Dear," and with that and a mutual nod, they parted.

***

Kira had watched the meeting from her vantage point on the aisle. She had been too far away to hear anything that was said of course, but the body language and their facial expressions alone had spoken volumes.

For all intents and purposes down there in the middle of the crowd of delegates a cautious but sweet reunion of old lovers had taken place. Most of the time she hadn't been able to see Julian's face. He had been standing with his back to her, but she had seen Garak's expression as Julian had leaned close to him.

For a second she felt the tiniest bit of sympathy for the old Cardassian. He really seemed oblivious of the trap that was being set for him, but as quickly as the feeling had welled up inside of her, it flickered out of existence again. No, he deserved what was coming to him.

She turned when she heard footsteps behind her. Bashir was climbing up the spiral-staircase, a definite spring in his step.

"Is it just me or is everyone ignoring those 'No access to the public' signs these days?" she grumbled.

Bashir gave her a nonplussed look and she relented, "Forget it. How did it go?"

He grinned. "Just as I had planned. I'll make my move during the gala."

He seemed to be quite pleased with himself, she thought. There was a definite air of condescension in his voice that grated on her nerves, and suddenly she remembered that tone from him back in their time on DS9. There was a crucial difference though. Back then the arrogance he had sometimes displayed had often been unintentional. It had been the ignorant arrogance of a pampered Starfleet brat. That had been Jadzia's unflattering description and it had stuck with Kira because it had been so dead on.

The arrogance he showed now was different. It was the arrogance of someone who was so full of himself he didn't care about others. She felt sudden sharp resentment towards him, but she hadn't time to deal with her own conflicting emotions now. She would see this through regardless of her personal feelings in the matter.

"And my role will be?" she asked.

"Just make sure we aren't disturbed," he said and with a casual wave he turned and went down the staircase again.

***

It was already late afternoon when Bashir gave himself a critical look in the mirror. _Time flies when you're having fun,_ he thought as he glanced at the chrono set into the mirror's glass. After the opening ceremony had ended, Bashir had hurried back to his quarters to do his final preparations for the evening. He had loaded a hypo with the poison and had for the hundredth time gone through all the data he had collected about the evening's attendees. Now he was spending an insane amount of time getting dressed.

He was in a strange mood. It wasn't the nervousness he had felt right before he had taken out his very first target all those years ago, but he wasn't the calm professional either that he had become since then.

There was a personal component to this job and he felt slightly uneasy, but there was also a very strong allure in it. It felt like he might be finally able to forcibly kick a door shut that had stood just a crack open for far too long and without him really noticing.

Giving his hair a final tousle, he turned away from the mirror and grabbed the white jacket that would complete his dress uniform.

***

One hour into the gala's festivities Kira had once again taken up her post on the lakeside aisle. She had instructed her people that her Second in Command would oversee security this evening and that she would attend to a personal matter.

The first hour of the gala she had spent down among the delegates, greeting diplomats and specialists, making small talk. Bashir had told her he would signal her once he had set up a private meeting with Garak. He would steer him towards one of the balconies and he would expect her to make certain no one else followed them.

She saw Garak and Bashir meet down on the ground-floor. Once again she watched their slow dance around each other. She had to hand it to Bashir - he was perfect. This time she could see both of them in profile and Bashir gave the perfect image of someone slightly overwhelmed by seeing his old lover and awkward because of the public setting.

Garak for his part looked mostly like a love-besotted fool - the way he watched every of Bashir's movements, reacted to the doctor's words and gestures, it looked pathetic really.

She saw Bashir lean forward and he was whispering something in Garak's ear that caused the Cardassian to chuckle and nod. Bashir stepped back and drained his wineglass, then dangled it upside-down between his fingers - and there it was, the signal they had agreed upon.

She saw the pair slowly move through the crowd and watched as they ascended one of the spiral-staircases up to the aisle. She was just about to follow them when a hand from behind grabbed her elbow.

"Colonel Kira, I really must protest this treatment!" It was the nerve-rackingly high pitched voice of Garak's assistant Alana Ghemor that accompanied the grasp and as much as Kira would have liked to, she couldn't ignore the obnoxious woman. She couldn't risk drawing too much attention to herself and her movements, and ignoring Ghemor would most likely cause an even shriller protest.

Turning she put on her most steely smile, ready to deal with whatever the ambassador's aide wanted in the speediest way possible.

***

 _This is working like a charm_ , Bashir thought. He slowly guided Garak through the throngs of people towards one of the spiral stair-cases leading up to the lakeside aisle and its balconies. They were walking in silence now, both overtly expectant of continuing their conversation in private, though Bashir grinned secretly as he thought how different their agendas for the next minutes were.

Reaching the balcony he had selected earlier he let Garak step through its doors first. Before he followed he turned around casting a look across the hall to see if Kira was coming up. He frowned as he saw her still on the opposite side of the aisle and obviously in a heated argument with a Cardassian woman. _Amateur_ , he thought. Was it really so much to ask for her to stick to the plan? He shook his head and pulled the doors closed behind him. Hopefully they would be enough to deter any interruptions until Kira finally made up her mind to do as she was told. He'd have to stall for a bit more time but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. Garak had fallen for him hard.

He took a deep breath as he turned around again. Bajor's sun was slowly setting, and a light breeze that came across the lake created an atmosphere that was almost too sickly sweet romantic to bear, though it should be just perfect for his plans.

Garak had moved towards the parapet and was leaning against it, looking out across the lake presenting his back to Julian. For a split second Julian had the vision of just rushing up to him, stabbing him over and over and be done with this for good. He wouldn't of course, though seeing some blood would've been a satisfying sight. He had waited over a decade to finally get back at the Cardassian for discarding him and their relationship so easily back at DS9. It had been one more stone thrown at him that had brought him down to his knees and more had followed in the years since. _Oh get a grip, Jules_ , he chided himself, deliberately using his hated childhood name.

Putting up a wistful smile he slowly walked towards Garak and stopping beside him he followed his example, placing his hands on the parapet. He leaned slightly forward taking a deep breath. In a soft voice he said, "What a beautiful sight."

Garak turned to him and giving him a slow appraisal, letting his gaze wander from head to foot, he answered, "What a beautiful sight, indeed." He raised his hand and let it brush over the jacket's sleeve of Julian's wrist. It was a cautious gesture that spoke of hope and it sent a spike of pain through Julian's heart that was totally unexpected and as unwelcome.

He had one hand kept in his pocket where it held the hypo and his fingers tightened around the small device. _Almost, almost_ , he told himself, _just a little while longer._ Taking a step back from the parapet he smiled at Garak. He beckoned at him and Garak followed him until they came to stand in front of each other. Mirroring Garak's earlier gesture he let his free hand slowly travel over the sleeve of Garak's right arm and upwards, following it with his gaze until he finally made eye contact with Garak once again. He looked amused and expectant, his eyes were wide.

"A kiss? Just for old time's sake?" Julian whispered, and he saw Garak's eyes widen even more.

Garak answered as softly "For old time's sake, Julian? Too often that's a dangerous path and sometimes it can be a real killer. Are you sure?"

A strange tone had crept into Garak's voice at his last words, Julian noticed it, but he paid it no further attention. He was absolutely focused on completing his job. Taking a half-step forward he closed the last distance between them letting his free arm slip around Garak's waist while his right hand - the one holding the hypo - slowly crept out of his pocket.

Garak's own right hand moved up Julian's back until it rested against the nape of his neck. He pulled slightly and Julian came forward willingly. Their mouths met and it was devastating - a kiss that was bitter like the ash of burnt bodies, tainting his lips with poison. He raised the hypo to Garak's neck, letting his hand rest on Garak's shoulder. But the kiss was more - it was sweet and magnificent and wonderful too and once again threatened to open the floodgates of his memory.

Right then he felt another spike of pain lance through his heart and it was even sharper than before. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow in confusion. This felt decidedly wrong. Slowly realization dawned. _No_ , he thought, _this can't be._

***

Silently cursing like a vole that had been trapped in a corner, Kira finally slipped through the balcony's doors. It had taken her far too long to reach them and she half expected to be greeted by the sight of a dead body. It took just one look however to see that things hadn't developed that far. She allowed herself only a split-second of regret as she pulled her phaser, took aim and fired. The two men were less than five metres away. There was no chance she could miss at that distance.

The energy beam hit Bashir squarely in the back, sending him tumbling forward against Garak. She saw the hypospray sliding out of his hand that had rested on Garak's shoulder. It fell to the floor and clattered over the tiled surface before it dropped through one of the gaps of the balcony's parapet. She imagined she could faintly hear it splash into the lake beneath.

Bashir made the smallest of sounds, somewhere between surprised and sad just as his knees buckled. Garak didn't try to prevent his fall and Kira doubted that he would've had the strength even if he'd tried. Instead he only followed Bashir's collapse by leaning down, keeping his hand around Bashir's neck, so that his head didn't hit the tiles.

Bashir seemed to be already dead and that puzzled Kira. She took a couple of steps closer and then it dawned on her what had happened. There was a spreading bloodstain on Bashir's white jacket. It came from a wound in his chest, and it couldn't have been from her shot.

Kira had been completely focused on Bashir. Now her gaze wandered to Garak and she saw the stiletto he was holding in his left hand - the left hand she hadn't seen as she slipped onto the balcony because it had been hidden between the two men's bodies. There was blood dripping from the stiletto's blade.

Her interference had been superfluous. She had shot a man who had already been dying.

"Why?" Garak's question brought her out of her gloomy thoughts.

She looked at him. He seemed honestly curious and more than a little surprised by her actions. It angered her. She felt tricked and used and it all focused on the old Cardassian that was now slowly getting up. "This is my territory, my home-turf. I have _no_ use for assassins here, regardless of their provenance," she paused for a second, "and also regardless of the fact I might consider their target to be legitimate."

She gave Garak a hard look then stretched her hand out - palm open - gesturing at him. He followed her silent command by gently placing the blade in it, handle first. His grim face made it clear that he didn't like what she'd said, but he remained silent.

She continued, "When I saw the two of you together, I took you for an old and sentimental fool." She looked down at Bashir's lifeless body, then looked up again. "It seems I'll have to revise that assessment," she continued, "Old? Yes. Sentimental? Maybe. Dangerous? Most certainly and definitely no fool." She slowly shook her head then struck an official pose. "I'm watching you, Ambassador. Be very careful where you're treading," she told him, falling back into her role as Head of Planetary Security.

She was almost disappointed when Garak only answered, "I'll keep that in mind, Colonel."

"I'll close this balcony to the public and send someone to collect the body," she said, "don't stay here too long," and with a last nod she turned and headed back into the hall, closing the balcony's doors behind her.

***

For a long moment the balcony lay in absolute silence. Finally a soft voice broke it, "Oh my dear Doctor. Why couldn't you just stay out of this? And why didn't you heed my warning and leave? Assassination is a game for killers. And you? You've never had what it takes, you might've played one in the last years, but you've never been one in your heart."

The last sounds that could be heard were light footsteps before silence once again reigned.

END


End file.
